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Full text of "NightRider"

said. " Men we've talked to have been making recommend-
ations. We've got enough names to make up more than
twenty bands, right in this section. And we've talked to
some."

"Eight around here?" Mr. Munn demanded.

"Yes, sir, and we've got names in seven different counties.
We've got a line on a good many, too."

"It looks like you're looking forward to something pretty
big," Mr. Munn said.

Doctor MacDonald swung his lanky body up from the
rocking chair and leaned toward Mr, Munn, pointing the
stem of the unlit pipe at him. " Man," he said, and his lips
drew back from the teeth in that secret half smile, "man,
you don't know how big it might be." He dropped his arm
to his side, slowly. The sleeve was too short for him, and the
long, sinewy hand, with its knobby knuckles and clean-looking
fingers, hung far out.

Before he went to sleep that night, Mr. Munn decided that
he liked Doctor MacDonald. He liked his good nature, and
the hardness that lay just beneath it, you could tell, just as
the potentiality of speed and strength seemed to reside, upon
second glance, in the slow motions of his lanky frame. Mr.
Munn was not excited by the events of the evening. He was
not sleepy, but calm and detached, as he lay on his back in
the strange bed and stared up at the black ceiling and let the
words and faces drift through his mind. He was at peace
with himself, he told himself. His decision, his action,
seemed so inevitable, Eke a thing done long before and
remembered, like a part of the old, accustomed furniture of
memory and being. Then it occurred to him that Senator
Tolliver, not Christian and MacDonald and Ball, was really
responsible for his decision, if anybody was. If the Senator
had never laid a hand on his shoulder, had never leaned
confidentially toward him, had not used him and betrayed
him, he might never have taken this step. But that seemed
part of the pattern, a sure and inevitable part. And the
Senator's face, which, smiling and dignified, flickered across